Little Red

Lined up neatly
All in a row
I've seen X's before
Criss-crossed when they
Run out of room
But not you

Even in this
The worst of all things
You are precise

And you are beautiful
And what you do is disgusting

Pull your sleeves up
I want to see what you did
When I couldn’t be there

Could I even stop you or
This thing that seems to take over
You start and you can’t think ahead

You wanted to wear that dress
That strapless, sleeveless dress
I hope your cardigan matches
For your sake

For mine

For the love that I cling to
All the times I had to distract you

Every time you fell apart
When it was harder to swallow the pills
When you tried but
You couldn’t stop

Please stop.

I need you.

You promised.

Those sick little lines
Little red lines
You fucking perfectionist.